


A Little Less (Conversation)

by space0bongo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Lying Cheating Boys, M/M, Porn With Plot, Top!Stiles, Voyeurism, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space0bongo/pseuds/space0bongo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It starts with a conversation.  Actually it probably started with more than one conversation but Scott had been too wrapped up in Alison to notice the ones before (he’s man enough to admit it; he’s whipped and it’s the best feeling in the world). ' The story where Scott is a dirty little voyeur...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less (Conversation)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been asked on a number of occasions to write porn where Stiles tops the Hell out of Derek. This is it. It's not as explicit as I initially wanted mostly because Scott's character kind of ran away from me a little, but I do hope you guys enjoy it.

It starts with a conversation.  Actually it probably started with more than one conversation but Scott had been too wrapped up in Alison to notice the ones before (he’s man enough to admit it; he’s whipped and it’s the best feeling in the world).  But when Alison leaves for LA with Lydia on some stupid weekend shopping trip slash girly bonding adventure (Stiles’ words not his) and Scott takes Stiles to the pack meeting (not _Scott's_ pack of course but it's the only werewolf pack in Beacon Hills and if he's got any chance of getting control over this thing inside him he has to make friendly with them, and that includes attending meetings apparently) in Alison’s place as the token human (again Stiles’ words), he finds that Stiles’ and Derek’s conversations don’t make a whole lot of sense.

“What would it take?” Scott overhears Derek ask Stiles just as they’re leaving. He isn’t continuing a conversation (Derek didn’t talk to Stiles once in the meeting, didn’t even look at him), or starting one, or even making an observation.  It makes no sense.  Scott gives Stiles a ‘what the fuck’ expression and Stiles sighs, dismisses him to the jeep with a wiggle of his fingers, but Scott can still see and hear everything.

“Really,” Stiles looks to the door, rubs a hand across the top of his head, and lowers his voice.  “You _really_ want to have this conversation right now while Scott is just outside?”

“What would it take Stiles,” It’s less of a question now and more of a demand.  Scott snorts at the tone, wonders why Stiles takes it, and then realises that he has to.  Unlike the others Stiles isn’t able to run or fight or (in Erica’s case) flirt his way from Derek’s temper; he has to take it.  Scott gulps at the realisation and promises himself that he’ll fight more at his friend’s corner next time (this time makes no damn sense).

“You know,” Stiles grates out through a clenched jaw.  “You _know_ what it would take.  Stop being a jackass.”

“Okay,” Derek says evenly neither his tone nor his facial expression betraying anything about the subject of their conversation.  Scott watches as Stiles stares at Derek with wide eyes.  He recognises this expression at least, it’s the same one Stiles wears when Lydia says something intelligent; Stiles likes whatever it is that Derek’s agreed to.  He likes it _a lot_. And Scott’s confusion deepens.  

It deepens so much that even after Stiles has dropped him home Scott spends hours wondering just what the guys were talking about. He paces a (literal) hole in his carpet thinking about it until, eventually, his mom storms into the room throws her car keys at his head and orders him out of the house so she can catch up on some sleep. So Scott drives to Sheriff Stilinksi’s place and carefully climbs up the old trellis to Stiles’ room.  He has just wedged the window open, and why Stiles’ would close his window in the middle of the summer when the dude sweats like a dog Scott doesn’t know, and is about to push one leg inside when he notices that _Derek Hale_ is sleeping in Stiles’ bed.

Actually Derek isn’t sleeping he’s lying under the covers on Stiles’ bed, topless, with his knees bent and his hands carefully folded over the top of Stiles’ duvet.  He looks uncomfortable and distracted, his eyes flashing red intermittently like a siren and although that’s obviously strange (as is the fact that the Alpha still hasn’t sensed Scott yet) it’s not strange at all that he’s there in Stiles’ room in Stiles’ bed.  Derek uses the Sheriff’s house to lay low whenever the hunters get too close and has been known to kick Stiles out of bed when he’s there (Stiles says he doesn’t mind, that Derek probably doesn’t get a chance to sleep in a bed all that much).  Scott searches the room and doesn’t see Stiles, doesn’t even see the dusty bedroll he always pulls out during one of Derek’s stays, and he’s just about to leave when the fucking bed sheets move.

There’s someone inside Stiles’ bed with _Derek_ and Scott should do something like find Stiles and tell him that Derek is using _his bed_ to fuck his one-night stands or hookers or whatever the hell you call girls crazy enough to let Derek touch them, but he can’t fucking move.  He can’t do anything except stare because Stiles’ head emerges from the duvet that’s rucked up around Derek’s waist, his abnormally long tongue licking its’ way up to and around and across Derek’s nipples (Scott still has nightmares from when Stiles licked him for a dare in sixth grade, his tongue is that long but Derek’s not complaining.  Derek’s not saying anything at all he’s just staring at Stiles).  

And wow.  How did Scott not notice that smell before.  It’s faint and musky and _Derek_ but with _Stiles_ as well, a mixture of scents. Scott watches Stiles lick his lips.

“Are you okay?” Stiles whispers when he finally licks and mouths his way up the curve of Derek’s jaw.  Derek inhales then, nods, winces a little like he hurts, and wow.  Scott squints.  Are they doing _it_ right now? His nostrils flare and his ears perk up a little and even though he really _really_ wants to move he can’t. Stiles slides his lips across to Derek’s, presses a close mouthed kiss, and whispers things.  Things Scott _never_ ever wanted to hear his best friend say.  He’s reassures Derek, one hand coming up to scratch lightly against the short hairs on the back of Derek’s neck, calls him beautiful and perfect and gorgeous.  The other hand, Scott notices, stays under the covers and if he focuses he can hear the wet sounds of too much lube and skin against skin; the drag of Stiles’ guitar callouses (nobody else knows that Stiles’ plays, not even the Sheriff even though Scott is about ninety per cent sure that Stiles used his credit card to buy a guitar).

Stiles moves slowly, carefully, like he thinks he could actually hurt Derek and Scott wonders whether they’ve done it before.  Probably not, he decides.  Derek looks too uncomfortable, no that’s the wrong word.  _Shocked_.  Yeah Derek looks shocked like Stiles has somehow blown his mind along with all his other body parts (Scott knows Stiles, didn’t know he was gay of course, but knows that there’s no way Stiles would stop at a simple blow job.  He’d lick _everywhere_ and okay that’s gross.  Scott so doesn’t want to think of his best friend doing _that_ with his Alpha even though he does it all the time with Alison.  And wow Alison.  He really, _really_ , misses her right now). Of course just because its Derek’s first time it doesn’t mean that they haven’t done _it_ before, but Stiles has never been the kind of guy to give up control easily, even if he does market himself as a bisexual twink most days of the week, so Scott doubts it.

“I want to bite you now,” Derek whispers against Stiles’ neck and Scott’s eyes widen when Stiles tightens his grip on Derek’s hair, pulls, and bares his neck.

“No,” Stiles kisses Derek’s Adam’s apple, sucks it, holy fuck, _bites_ it (he bites the Alpha, the fucking _Alpha)_ and Derek’s hips snap up once, twice, and Scott can smell him coming from behind the window.  “Does this make you my bitch now?” He gloats as he brings his wet hand from under the covers and swipes it across Derek’s mouth before sliding it right back to where it was (Scott can hear Stiles scratch his fingers across the wiry hairs at the inside of Derek’s thigh).  “’Cause I got to say, I like it.” 

“We had a deal,” Derek grunts when the duvet falls away as Stiles moves, has both of Derek’s knees in his hands now and is pushing them back towards Derek’s shoulders.  “You…me…” His eyes flutter when Stiles slams his hips forward and even though Derek looks blissed out Scott has _never_ heard him sound so angry.  “The pack,” Derek growls.  “You said you’d join if I…”

And now, all of a sudden, the conversation from before makes sense; Scott feels sick to his stomach, wrong, and not just because he’s spent the better part of fifteen minutes watching his friend fuck another guy through his mattress.  

“I’m sixteen years old,” Scott hears Stiles whisper as he jumps onto the roof of his mom’s car (he dents it but is too upset to care).  “I’d say anything to get the guy I like into bed,” Scott hears the wet slide of tongue against tongue as he starts up the engine. He’s not sure who he’s angry at more—Derek for agreeing to prostitute himself to get Stiles into his pack, or Stiles for tricking Derek into it.   “I want to do this again tomorrow, do you think…”

“No,” Derek says but as Scott drives out he’s fairly certain that the Alpha doesn’t sound too sure about that.  Not that he cares of course as far as he’s concerned he’s done with the both of them.


End file.
